A teaching story from the Jataka tales

An inspiring story from the Jatakas, the stories of the Buddha, tells about a family in India. There were an old father and mother, with a grown-up son who had a wife and child. They were very loving to each other, caring and close so that the family was the symbol of love for the whole village. 

One day, very suddenly, the son died and all the people in the village were shocked. They thought, ‘Now we must console this family because they must be completely devastated; they were so close and loving.’ so they all went to the family. When they arrived they found that nobody was mourning but the family was living naturally as though nothing was wrong. They asked the father, ‘What happened? We thought you loved your son very much? Hasn't he died?’ The father answered, ‘Yes, he died.’ The villagers asked, ‘Then why aren't you mourning? Why aren't you sad? You are here as if nothing happened. What is this?’ 

The father replied, ‘Well, I knew from the beginning that everything changes, nothing lasts all the time. So when I had this son, I loved him very much and I knew that there would be a time when we would have to part. because we did not know when this would happen, while we were together we tried to give our most, the best to each other. because of that we became the symbol of love. Now, what we knew would happen some day has happened. so, I am happy because I didn't do anything to upset him during his lifetime. I did everything possible for him and he did everything that was possibly good. Before I didn't have a son and I was not unhappy. Then I had a son and I was very happy. Now I have returned to the previous state when I had no son.’ The villagers asked each family member and each responded in the same manner.

--as told by Rob Nairn in Living, Dreaming, Dying: Wisdom of Tibetan Psychology

Neither yours nor mine

Preparing for [experience at death] begins with simply being who we are and where we are in this very moment. If we want to be successful in terms of experiencing our death and journey after death, then we have to master the experience of nowness. Whatever we are going through, that is who we are in that moment. When we speak about nowness, we are not talking about anything external, so we should not look for it outside. We should look directly at the space of our immediate experience, which is always right in front of us--the space that is neither yours nor mine, neither theirs nor ours.

--Dzogchen Ponlop Rinpoche, Mind Beyond Death

A teaching story from Ajahn Brahm

One of my favourite anecdotes on death is the story of Asoka's brother.[1] Asoka was the Indian Emperor who became a Buddhist. Asoka had a brother, named V´tasoka, who seemed completely unspiritual, and was into sensory pleasures. Being the brother of the Emperor afforded him many opportunities to indulge in them. In order to lead his brother into understanding the Dhamma, Asoka set a trap for him.

As I re-tell the story, with some literary licence, the Emperor was in his bath while his robes and insignia were laid outside. Asoka had arranged for some of his close advisers to be walking with his brother and, as if by accident, to come through the bath house. Pointing out the Emperors robes just lying on the bench, the advisers said to Asoka's brother, 'Why not try these on for size? Who knows? One day when your brother dies, you will probably be Emperor. Try them on. Go on, it will be alright'. At first the brother would not do it. He knew that it was illegal to do so. But in the end his pride got the better of him. Who wouldn't like to dress up in the Emperor's clothes? It was all pre-planned, and so as soon as he was dressed in the Emperor's clothes, the Emperor Asoka came out of the bathhouse and caught him! 

The Emperor asked: 'What are you doing? Are you usurping the throne? Are you a traitor?' Because this was a crime, the Emperor said, 'Even though you are my brother, I have to administer the law impartially. The penalty for this is death.' 

Despite his own brother's desperate pleas for mercy, the Emperor insisted on maintaining the law and having his unfortunate brother killed. However, he added, 'Seeing you are my brother, and you would like to be Emperor so much, for the next seven days you can enjoy all the pleasures of an Emperor. But you will have none of the responsibilities. You can enjoy my harem. You can have whatever you want to eat. And whatever entertainment I enjoy, you can enjoy as well. The pleasures of the Emperor are yours for seven days. But after seven days, you will be executed'. Then the Emperor left. 

After seven days, the Emperor Asoka summoned his brother to the place of execution. The Emperor asked him, 'Did you enjoy the harem, all those beautiful girls? Did you enjoy the best food from my kitchens? Did you enjoy my musicians and other entertainers?' The brother looked down at the ground, his shoulders drooping and said, 'Could I enjoy all that? I couldn't even enjoy one night's sleep. How can you enjoy anything when you know that you are soon to be executed?' 

The Emperor smiled and said, 'Now you may understand!'

--Ajahn Brahm, "I Know, but I Don't Know"

A basic tenet of the Buddha's teachings is that the mind and body work together, but that the body lies under the control of the mind. The mind is what orders the body to do this or that activity, but when the body wears down, the mind is of necessity put to some hardship as well. It doesn't lie under the control of the nervous system, although the brain can be regarded as a central office. When the body dies, disintegrating in line with the nature of its various elements, the mind — if the necessary conditions of unawareness, craving, attachment, and kamma are still present — will have to reappear in this or that plane of existence and to continue experiencing suffering and stress.

--Ajaan Thate, "Steps Along the Path"

"The Tibetan Book of the Dead: A Way of Life"

Death is real, it comes without warning and it cannot be escaped. An ancient source of strength and guidance, The Tibetan Book of the Dead remains an essential teaching originating in the spiritual cultures of the Himalayas. Narrated by Leonard Cohen, this enlightening two-part series [1994; 90 min] explores the sacred text and boldly visualizes the afterlife according to its profound wisdom.

 Part 1: A Way of Life reveals the history of The Tibetan Book of the Dead and examines its traditional use in northern India, as well as its acceptance in Western hospices. Shot over a four-month period, the film contains footage of the rites and liturgies for a deceased Ladakhi elder and includes an interview with the Dalai Lama, who shares his views on the book's meaning and importance.

Part 2: The Great Liberation follows an old lama and his novice monk as they guide a Himalayan villager into the afterlife using readings from The Tibetan Book of the Dead. The soul's 49-day journey towards rebirth is envisioned through actual photography of rarely seen Buddhist rituals, interwoven with groundbreaking animation by internationally acclaimed filmmaker Ishu Patel.

 

Two sides

As there is spring, so there is winter.
Likewise, as there is birth, so there is death.
As there is head of a coin, so there is tail of of it.
Birth and death are the two sides of life.

--Ven. Xin-Xing

Die a good death by becoming more peaceful

The whole emphasis is on trying to encourage the dying person, be it oneself or another, to become more peaceful. How can you die a good death? By becoming more peaceful. The Buddhist way is to try and maintain an atmosphere of peace in the room where someone is dying. It's not very good to have people shouting and screaming, waving and crying and tugging and pulling. What does that do to the poor person who has this very important thing to do, to die? They make it very difficult to die peacefully. Give those present time to become quiet. It is good if friends and relatives are present, people who can show by their presence that they care, that they love, that they are willing to let go, to reassure, to offer support - that's enough.

--Ajahn Jagaro, "Death and Dying"

Dwell on what they have accomplished

Always when you are with a dying person, dwell on what they have accomplished and done well. Help them to feel as constructive and as happy as possible about their lives. Concentrate on their virtues and not their failings. People who are dying are frequently extremely vulnerable to guilt, regret, and depression; allow them to express these freely, listen to the person and acknowledge what he or she says.

--Sogyal Rinpoche, The Tibetan Book of Living and Dying

A calm mind before death

All Buddhist traditions support the importance of maintaining a calm mind at the time of death. The moment of death is a critical moment that is thought to have a strong impact on the next rebirth. In order to have a calm mind at the moment of death, the dying person needs to cultivate calmness during life and be supported to enter into that calm state and maintain it, as much as possible, leading up to the moment of death.

Different individuals may need different kinds of support for this work. Pure Land practitioners (primarily in the Vietnamese, Chinese, Korean, and Japanese traditions) may benefit from chanting the name of Amitabha Buddha or having others chant in their presence. Small chanting boxes are available that play the chant continuously. Practitioners in the Theravada tradition (primarily in South Asian countries such as Sri Lanka, Burma/Myanmar, Laos, Cambodia, and Thailand) also benefit from chanting, usually offered by monks. Western practitioners most often rely on meditation to attain a calm mental state. When dying, these individuals can be guided through the stages of meditation by a fellow practitioner or by a monastic.

We cannot over-emphasize that any effort to support the dying person in the way in which he wishes is wonderful. We may feel we cannot do what is needed correctly. We may feel we do not have the appropriate training or understanding. This is not a problem. Our compassionate presence to the dying person and our wish to support him are the most important things we can offer.

Death and dying

Arising and passing away...

This is the Buddhist understanding of the nature of all phenomena. We are born; therefore, we die.

How can we understand this reality? How can we prepare for our own deaths? How can we care for others who are dying?

This is a journey into the heart-mind. Please let this site be your companion on the journey.